


Sick Day

by kitausuret



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alien Biology, Developing Relationship, Flash is trying his best, IN SPACE!, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Sick Character, Venom gets sick, Venom needs a hug, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausuret/pseuds/kitausuret
Summary: When two members of the Space Knight crew - Tarna of Skrullos, and the Venom Symbiote - are struck down by a virus that affects shapeshifters, both are taken out of commission, and Flash takes it upon himself to take care of his partner. Unfortunately, doesn't know what he's doing when it comes to alien illnesses, but by God, he's going to try his damndest.Even if the symbiote doesn't want him to.
Relationships: Flash Thompson & Space Knight Crew, Flash Thompson & Venom Symbiote, Pre-Flash Thomspon/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> Historian's Note: This takes place in some hand-waved nebulous "time" that is after the events of Space Knight. There are a lot of things I thought about adding in to give more context to what and where and why and how but I wanted to focus of Flash and the symbiote.  
> Assume that like, everything is okay.

Sometimes, Flash hated space.

Usually he loved it. He loved being among the stars, he loved the thousands of planets and systems, he loved the way the cosmos rang in his mind (even when it was more like a gong clanging at 200 decibels), and most of all, he loved being out here with his partner. They protected each other from all kinds of perils large and small, defending entire planets and species from tyranny and oppression. There was nothing that could divide them.

Except for an itty-bitty microscopic virus that was the only reason Flash hated space right now.

“What do you _mean_ there’s no cure?!”

Punch grumbled something that didn’t translate without the symbiote’s help (though likely wouldn’t have anyways) and stored the sample in a secure container. “As I already explained to you, Flash Thompson, it’s not practical to waste our resources on such a minor issue-”

“ _It’s not a minor issue! Look at him!_ ” 

Flash thrust the dripping, liquified mass of his partner at their _de facto_ medical officer. Tarna sat on an exam table nearby, wrapped up in a blanket and sipping some kind of tea they had found on Knowhere. “Venom will be fine in a few days, as will I.” She held out her hand, which rippled slightly but failed to change shape. “My own morphogenic matrix has also been affected, but your partner’s makes up its entire being."

“The virus will work its way out of the symbiote’s body,” Punch explained, ever-patient. “You should still be able to bond with it without any negative side effects, but it won’t make the virus cycle any faster, either.” 

“What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Go without it, or you are out of commission.”

Flash cradled the symbiote in his arms, doing his best to keep all its biomass contained. It stretched out a tentacle, brushed it over his cheek, and then the appendage receded, as if even that small gesture was too much effort. He frowned heavily and looked to Tarna again.

“You’re _sure_ he’ll be okay?”

“I have had the virus before, once with my partner,” she said. “You will _both_ be fine. It afflicts only shapeshifters, as I said. A few days of rest and it will fade.”

He sighed and caught a drip that almost escaped. “Fine, fine. We’ll take it easy.” Flash pushed the comm button on the wall near the door. “Mahia, come in.”

_“Mahia here, what do you need?”_

“Tarna and Venom are out for the next few days. I’ll be taking care of my partner; gonna need you on the bridge for at least a few hours. What’s our ETA to the next planet?”

 _“Half of one standard day.”_

“Noted. I’ll be in quarters if you need me. Flash, out.”

\-----

Flash didn’t know what he was doing, but his instinct told him that rest certainly wouldn’t _hurt_. A virus was a virus, wasn’t it? And viruses just had to run their course. 

That damn planet. He should have known something was wrong. By the end of their mission the symbiote had been struggling to hold a shape, sinking inside him entirely by the time they got back on the ship. Tarna had been similarly impaired, seemingly forced back into her regular form and with all the fire gone from her red eyes. She said she and Venom would ultimately be fine, and she’d never had any reason to lie to Flash before, but he still hated this.

Which was why he currently lay curled around the slightly-sticky mass of his partner. It hadn’t bonded with him since getting the diagnosis from Punch despite the assertion that bonding wouldn’t hurt either of them. Eventually, though, a tendril curled around his wrist and poked into his palm.

_“Flash…”_

He opened his eyes and managed a smile. “Hey, buddy. How you feelin’?”

_“...weakened. Sorry.”_

“What? What do you have to feel sorry about?”

It curled itself tighter into itself, trying to condense its mass. _“Should be stronger than this. Should be-”_

“V, you’re sick! It happens to everyone!” Flash rolled over onto his back and coaxed the symbiote onto his torso. More softly, he said, “Why don’t you come inside?” In his best Yes impression, he added, “ _One road to happiness, it’s calling your name-”_ A tendril weakly covered his lips to stop him, and he laughed. Flash rested a hand on its mass, and closed his eyes again. “Think there’s still an unopened bag of Hershey’s kisses somewhere on board. How’s that sound?”

It let out a tiny “mrrp”, followed by an unsure pulse of feeling. But it did thread itself through Flash’s fingers as they lay there on the bed, and though symbiotes did not sleep, as it were, he still got the impression it was tired. 

“Don’t worry, pal. I gotcha.”

\-----

The next day was, unfortunately, worse.

Venom could barely hold itself in a lump, much less a shape. Flash had resorted to scooping it into a bucket and then setting it in a sink. He ran cold water in the basin and sat on the vanity beside, his wheelchair parked next to it and a book from home in his lap. A few chocolates littered the edge of the sink, only one unwrapped and consumed, which he took as a good sign despite everything. 

The symbiote had stayed worryingly still all day. It occasionally left little grey splotches of itself, sloughed off like dead skin cells. The most it communicated with him was a garbled “spib” as it immersed itself in the cold water. Flash remained certain it would be much more comfortable with him, but he wasn’t about to push the issue while his partner was so sick. 

He’d had to leave to check how things were on the bridge and to follow up on Tarna (who had confined herself to her quarters and wouldn’t even let Iqa in). On his way back from a status update from J’k and 803 on an engineering issue, he was suddenly tackled in the stomach by a white-and-black blur-

-which was just Hilla Rollo. 

“Flash!” she exclaimed, holding his shirt in her little claws like she was about to bring another glorious victory to the Rollo name instead of just bothering him. “Where is Mister Venom?!”

“V’s sick. Tarna too.” He smirked and scratched her behind the ear. “You getting into trouble with your mom busy on the bridge, and neither of us to keep an eye on you?”

He swore she rolled her eyes. “ _No_ , I’m a _growing warrior_ , not some _kid_.”

“Of course you’re not.” 

“Mister Venom is gonna be okay, though, right?”

Flash gently nudged her off. “Yeah, kid. He’ll be fine. I’m on my way back to him now.” He braced himself without much success and held out a hand to her. “Hey, growing warrior, help a weak old human up?” 

She helped him back onto his feet and stabilized (Hilla was probably stronger than most grown humans by this point) but still looked a bit worried. “Mother says you are both strong - for a human and a Klyntar, anyways. Even if you’re both kinda dumb. But tell Mister Venom he needs to get better.”

“You got it, champ.”

\-----

That evening, Flash sat alone at the navigational helm on the bridge, monitoring their course as they sped towards the next planet. The symbiote lay nestled on his lap, tangled in his hand that wasn’t busy with the controls. Its body made a weird sound like trying to get the last bit from an empty mustard bottle every time it expelled more grey goop. Punch had confirmed that was its natural process to eject invasive particles, so there was _one_ good sign, at least. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to guess?”

The symbiote made a gurgling noise and started to let go of his hand. Flash gently threaded his fingers back through its biomass. 

“Nope, that’s not gonna fly, buddy. We share a lot more than just a body; you know that.” He rolled back away from the console and lifted the symbiote up to his eye-level. He gave a crooked smile. “So, use your words. Or don’t. But we’re not leaving the bridge until you tell me something.”

It touched his palm; sank in. _“Sick.”_ And it immediately disconnected. 

“That doesn’t count.”

_“...will show you. Not here.”_

“All right, deal. Soon as Iqa comes up to relieve us, back to quarters.”

\-----

After another cold-water bath to try and scrub out a few more grey blotches (and a considerably warmer shower for Flash) he sat up on his bed with the symbiote before him. Even without physical contact, he could sense his partner’s nervousness. The last time it hadn’t wanted to tell me something, it had been half-possessed by a demon, but Flash had the impression this was far more… embedded.

It touched his hands first, then threaded itself carefully, slowly, all the way through his system. The symbiote definitely felt _off_ , but aside from that, he felt fine. It voice came louder and clearer as it strengthened the bond:

_“Illness is weakness.”_

Before he could ask what on Earth _that_ meant, his mind filled with images; of a colony; of a place it had lived. Not Klyntar, no, but somewhere far more… _monstrous_. Dumped there unceremoniously after its disastrous First, before the Battleworld, before it knew of Earth or humans or compassion. 

He saw through its perception its horror at seeing the others of its kind draining hosts dry in a matter of moments. They had declared it as _weak_ \- too weak for this hive, too sick and broken for the Klyntar it had been stolen from. 

And then it had been sick again, sick in a different way, sick in the way that led to the complete breakdown of communication. But then the Hive made it better and-

“They didn’t,” Flash interrupted out loud. 

The symbiote let the images and sounds move away. All that was left was its own vaguely bipedal form and Flash’s own psychic avatar, standing and leaning on a cane. It always felt a little strange to be both here in their own minds while knowing he was _actually_ still on the bed in their quarters, but if he could at least get his partner out of its own swirling thoughts… 

“Venom,” he said, “the Hive didn’t make you better.” He frowned heavily. “If anything, they might have made things worse for you. All they did was… erase things. When it didn't work, they tried to execute you! They erased everything they could, and then the only thing you were left with was your worst memory of all.”

_“And you.”_

“That’s not my point.” Flash approached the huge, hulking figure and gently took one of its massive claws. Even in this headspace, it rippled, but he held it in both his own hands and looked up at the symbiote. “Illness isn’t weakness, V. It’s just something that happens. Sometimes it’s of our own making, but sickness, injury, it’s not something that can just be wiped away. Sometimes it just has to work its way out. Sometimes you have to chip away at it, or work and work until it’s manageable. 

“But you know what you can’t do? You can’t just face it alone. Because I’ve tried that. Doesn’t work. _Ever_.” 

The whole scene around them shuddered, and then faded entirely, snapping Flash back into himself and once again with the symbiote just on his lap. He let out a breath and gazed down at his friend. 

“What do you say, partner? Will you let me take care of you?” Its small noise seemed to be an affirmative. “Good. You take care of me, and I take care of you.”

It rumbled with a small purr and wrapped itself up Flash’s arm until it nuzzled against his jawline. A weird sort of flitting struck up in his chest, and he wondered for a moment if maybe something _had_ transmitted during their bonding. Still, he combed his fingers through its dark biomass and held it close. 

Yeah, they were going to be all right.


End file.
